Page 36 of Freeing the Wild
I glance up at him as I hoist a bag of oats over my shoulder to add to the sorting bins that line the wall.“Sure.”
“I get the vibe something else is going on between you two.I’ve never seen you so pissy with someone you just met.What gives?”
I shrug, not wanting to admit I’m the illustrious truck owner from her song whodidn’tchoose to leave her like she wrote.
“She’s a lot different from Ivy.”I sidestep his question.“The way she thought she could handle Outlaw back in the fall … she could’ve been really hurt and caused the ranch a big issue.I don’t take that lightly.And I don’t like having my time wasted.I realize she’s going through something and I’m sympathetic to that, but a simple ‘hey I’m not coming to ride’ would’ve been nice.You all have my number if she’s looking for it.Been behind all morning on account of waiting that hour for her.No offence, Sarge, but she just seems entitled sometimes.Like we’re all here waiting for her ‘go’ command.”
Wade starts to chuckle as he adds a scoop of soaked sugar beet to each bucket of feed.
“She’s got the baby-of-the-family complex for sure.Ivy always looked after her when Glenda was unable to.But …” He stands and wipes his brow with his flannel-covered arm.“These last couple weeks have been hard on her.Ivy’s worried.”
I think back to the sound of her crying and my damn chest tightens with the thought of her struggling.Wade presses on.
“Cassie’s story isn’t mine to tell.But go easy on her.We’reall hoping some time here will help her.”He grabs a gallon-sized jug of liquid supplements off the shelf.“Gotta say, I’m a little relieved that’s all it is.”
I stop what I’m doing and look at him.“What do you mean?”
“Well, I thought maybe something else was going on.Like maybe you two were a little more familiar with each other than you should be.”
I make a scoffing sound even I wouldn’t believe if I heard it.
“She’s a pretty girl with a feisty attitude,” Wade says.“Which always seems to be your type.But she’s off-limits.Got it?”
“’Course,” I mutter, not meeting his gaze.
“I want Silver Pines to be her safe space.So no funny business.It doesn’t take much for annoyance to turn to something more.Trust me.”
“Trustme,” I retort, beginning to stir the mix Wade’s making.“It won’t happen.”
Wade nods.“Good man.”
Nothing more is said as we finish our work.When I head home for lunch the princess emerges on her front porch in her pajamas with a pair of sunglasses on her face and a mug of steaming coffee at twelve-thirty in the afternoon.
I just shake my head and close my cabin door behind me.I push her from my mind and consider Wade’s words for the rest of the day.No matter the frustrating pull I still feel to her, this job is my lifeline and these people have been like family to me since I was nineteen.Whatever happened between me and Cassie is in the past, and the best thing I can do now is be civil and keep her at arm’s length.
Which sounds easy enough, but when she doesn’t show the next morning?I can’t fucking help myself.I get through the morning chores and, just before lunch, take matters into my ownhands and ride over to her place.I rehearse exactly what I’m about to say to her on the way over.
I realize you’re having a hard time.But common courtesy is a thing on this ranch.
If you don’t want to ride, if you need some time, speak up and let me know.Then I can quit getting your horse ready every damn day, Princess.
I stay prepared as I dismount and march right up her front steps, knocking heavily on her door when I reach it.It takes a few minutes, but when she answers, bottle of bourbon in hand at eleven a.m., her blonde hair piled high on her head and tears staining her face, my mind goes blank.I see and feel the pain she’s harboring and the only thing I can think is:Whose ass am I kicking?
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cassie
For four days I’ve watched the video Dax sent me Friday night on repeat.I’ve barely eaten and I’ve drunk way too much of Wade’s special bourbon.Luke’s label did such a good job of keeping what happened that night quiet, so ticket sales wouldn’t be hurt.They labeled the incident in California a freak accident and almost succeeded in minimizing its impact until my video surfaced, portraying me as a fragile, broken woman drowning in her own demons.After four days of living on ice cream, crying to my mom and Ivy, and only showering once to change into fresh pajamas, I’ve come up with nothing.Except maybe that the next shot of bourbon always tastes better than the one before.Which means the very last thing I need to deal with right now is a stern-looking cowboy on my porch.
I start to close the door on him, but Haden’s strong hand stops it.
“I know I missed my ride, but I’m not in the mood—” I start.
He takes in my state and the bourbon in my hand, before bringing his gaze back to my eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere when I walk in on you with a whiskey bottle mid-morning.”
“I’m not your problem,” I bite out.
